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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181772">A Christmas love story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kstarlight/pseuds/kstarlight'>kstarlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Lee Minho | Lee Know, Boys In Love, Christmas Fluff, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Kissing, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Minsung being cute with a Christmas theme bc why not, Sleepy Cuddles, Writer Han Jisung | Han, sweethearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:00:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kstarlight/pseuds/kstarlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho’s cheeks are pink as he concedes.</p><p>"So demanding."</p><p>"You're just easy to win over now," Jisung sticks his tongue out. "You were incredibly stubborn when we met."</p><p>"I was sensitive about my art," Minho defends. "And you were cute, I gay panicked."</p><p>Jisung sputters. “Well I was gay panicking over you first, so I win!”</p><p>"Oh god, I love you.”</p><p> Minho nuzzles his face into Jisung's chest. </p><p> </p><p>Or: Jisung meets Minho, the loner art kid, and has no idea they’ll be two fools in love spending their first Christmas together two years later.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Jisung | Han &amp; Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Minor Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Christmas love story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A little holiday Minsung! Their initial meeting started as a whole different fic but I turned it into this little domestic Christmas story instead..</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung exhales, the breath is a mixture of gratitude and panic as he puts on his coat, grabs his umbrella— which he spent way too long searching for—and races out of his dorm. He runs across campus trying hard not to splash in a puddle and soak his jeans anymore than they already are. His umbrella's clasped tightly in his hand, and despite being incredibly late for work he's not giving up yet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His feet shuffle at unwarranted speed across the bridge, slipping as they reach the end, though they save themselves in time to not face plant into a dingy puddle. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Being a little late to his shift would normally be excusable—Chan, the manager and his dear old friend, usually cuts him some slack— except Jisung is the type of late that makes it seem a little insulting to even show up at all by this point. But he isn't intending on giving up now, or at least, he's not planning to, until he sees a boy standing flat against the side of the art building. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The stranger is barely covered underneath a thin awning in attempt to not get attacked by the floodgates of the sky. He's wearing a loose t-shirt and ripped jeans, no jacket or sweater, not even a hat, and his bare arms are dripping with water from the inevitable wetness reaching him as the rain moves in a violent sideways motion. His ashy blonde hair blows around as the wind picks up, to which he squints and clutches what Jisung assumes are books closer to his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Unfortunately, he looks quite pathetic. Jisung feels compelled to go over to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's certainly not because he can tell from this distance that the boy standing there is the loner artist everyone talks of, the quiet boy who's often seen with his sketchbook rather than his phone, who's locked up in his dorm painting on Friday nights instead of at parties, and who's caught Jisung's eye numerous times in passing, though they've never met. But no, that's definitely not why Jisung can't stop staring at him, nor does he stop his intuition or quite literally his feet from heading in his direction.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Hey," Jisung calls when he's only a couple steps away from him. He wonders if he can even be heard over the storm, but then the boys head lifts up.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung's exasperated when he catches sight of his face, for real this time. Not only is he seeing the boy up close, but he is looking back at Jisung, seeing </span>
  <span class="s2">him, </span>
  <span class="s1">not seeing past him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Hey, um, are you okay?" Jisung asks, standing right in front of the blonde. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy blinks his long lashes and frowns.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Yeah," He deadpans, yet his voice is soft. "Do you need something?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung half hears what was said, too absorbed in admiring the features of the boy, tilting his head to the side. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The blonde raises a brow at the display, idling Jisung who's just standing there like he has some type of motive. The ridiculing look finally snaps him back to reality to voice his concern.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Why are you out here?" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I came to work on this," the boy gestures down, and Jisung finally sees what's in his arms, not books but a canvas. His mouth forms an 'o' shape and the blonde scoffs. "I got here as it started to rain, and the doors are locked. They must've closed early."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung bites his lip. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"So you're going to wait?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"For the rain to stop, yes."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wrinkles cover Jisung's forehead as he purses his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I hate to tell you this but the storm isn't passing anytime soon, it might be raining until tomorrow," He grimaces for having nothing but bad news to offer.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'll be here a while then," the other shrugs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung frowns. "Why can't you just—"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"My work will get ruined," the other cuts off, agitated by how slow Jisung is processing his dilemma. "I can't protect it when I wasn't prepared for the rain," He sighs, looking a little more eased of tension after snapping, though he knows it was uncalled for. He's just really frustrated about his situation.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung feels like an idiot. Of course that's why, the guy wouldn't just stand around for no reason. He's got half of a beautiful painting in his arms, from what Jisung can see it looks like a flower field painted beneath a sunset sky, and it's absolutely going to be destroyed and bleed into one muddled mess of runny pastel colors if he dares to even run through the storm to get back to wherever he came from. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung inhales sharply. He knows he's way overdue on clocking into work, but he can't exactly leave this boy now, can he? It seems insensitive to hear of his problem and simply bid him goodbye. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'll walk you," Jisung blurts, then blushes as he processes his impulsive offer, especially when the beautiful boy across from him gives him a funny look.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I- umbrella- I mean I- I have this umbrella," Jisung waves said umbrella, the yellow and white one with daisies printed all over it. He feels incredibly stupid because why can't he just talk normally? Why is he malfunctioning under the eyes of this seemingly harmless and innocent stranger when it was his decision to approach them first?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy looks a little amused by Jisung's awkwardness, and despite seeing it he continues.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's big enough for us both and it'll hopefully protect your painting. Let me walk you to your place?" Jisung smiles, hoping it's inviting enough for the boy to agree.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"What's in it for you?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung all but squawks. "I can't leave you in the rain! You would probably still be standing here alone if I didn't walk by. You don't have a jacket, or an umbrella, and your work—"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I don't need saving," the boy says on the defense, though if Jisung is seeing clearly his cheeks are a rosy color. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Undeterred, Jisung puffs his chest out with a deep inhale, getting a grip on his patience. He wants to extend his hand to help, and he's going to follow through with that.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Okay, maybe you don't need saving, but your pretty painting does." That makes the boy look more willing to consider the offer. "And there's no harm in a little help from a kind stranger, is there?" Jisung tries his best to look serious, but it's hard when he's bundled up in an oversized sweatshirt that hangs down to his knees, with a padded rain coat on top, and his flower printed umbrella in hand. It's soft, all of him is, but it's the art loving boy seems quite fond of. Jisung can see it, he knows he's broken through to the guarded stranger because he finally leans up off the building, sighing defeatedly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Fine, you can walk me to my dorm." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They walk in silence, aside from the boy giving directions, '</span>
  <span class="s2">turn left; turn right; I'm just a little ways past the library</span>
  <span class="s1">', and even without having much else to say it's still very comfortable. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When they arrive to the dorm Jisung walks the boy right up to the door until him and his art are both safely inside, and he's left outside with the thud of rain bouncing off his umbrella.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Thank you..." the artist purses his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Jisung," Jisung informs hastily. "Han Jisung."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Thanks, Jisung."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy turns around, ready to walk off. Jisung suddenly feels bewildered for not being given </span>
  <span class="s2">his</span>
  <span class="s1">name. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"W-wait!" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The blonde stops, then slowly turns back around. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"And you?" Jisung flashes an impish grin.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy raises a brow, lips curving into a smirk. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Lee Minho."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Having a name to go with that face satisfies Jisung. He hums.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're welcome, Minho."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho nods turns on his heel again to officially leave, but that's okay, Jisung has a feeling he'll see him again. He heads back to his dorm and calls Chan to apologize for never showing up, but he's not really that sorry. If not for the rain, he wouldn't have been late, and Minho would not have gotten stuck outside, and they never would've crossed paths. Everything must happen for a reason. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung thinks he and Minho might find a few more reasons than a helpful walk home in the rain. He can't wait to see what they may be.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Two years later, Jisung would never have imagined his life being where it is now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When he entered college he was kind of a mess. Sure he had close friends, a decent job at the cafe, was pursuing his major in creative writing which he loved dearly, but everything still felt intensely overwhelming. The thought of his future continued to take away his daily happiness. His anxiety would call for extensive weeks of feeling absolutely nothing but panicked and unsatisfied, like no matter how much he did he wasn't keeping up with the world. He wishes now that back then someone had told him he's not the whole world, just a mere part of it, and whatever he does at whatever pace he needs is completely okay. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Life was a mix of hope and discouragement, and despite the optimistic facade he held up, and the encouragement he had from friends, he still found himself feeling like his life was already over before it even started. Everything he wanted to achieve seemed impossible because well, just why would it ever work out?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It sometimes felt like the universe was conspiring against him, that is until he met Minho.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Every fear and worry rooted around Jisung's heart began to disappear with each day that he got closer to the older. Minho was quiet, reserved, he didn't talk about many things other than art and cats, but that was fine, because he was also really sweet, dedicated, and cared a hell of a lot about people he got close to, which somehow ended up being Jisung. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In Minho's last two years at university their relationship went from acquaintances, to best friends, to being foolishly in denial about liking each other. It might've been early to call it love, but Jisung still said it shamelessly one day in the rain when he got a little nostalgic about the day he and the older met. That moment made Minho throw all caution to the wind, and he and Jisung were kissing under the overcast sides with rain soaking through their clothes until they were both chilled to the bone and seeking shelter in the younger's dorm. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung had a lot of fear about what would happen when Minho graduated, at least until things started falling into perfect place. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In his time at university Minho developed a close relationship with a woman who owned a small art studio in the city, and since she was now close to retirement, she offered her studio up to Minho so long as he could manage the finances. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung had been ecstatic when the older shared the good news, along with something a little extra and unexpected.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">( "I got an apartment not far from campus," Minho reveals, unable to keep the nervous smile off his face as he squeezes Jisung's hands. "Would you want to move in with me?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung doesn't hesitate to kiss Minho for an answer, making them both smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The excitement they hold for their futures can't be tainted.)</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">And now, Jisung is halfway through his third year of college. He still works at the cafe, which is conveniently closer to his apartment than the dorm he was living in, and he also made a lot of progress in participating at writing competitions and programs at university. With some extra help from Chan he may just have a paid internship waiting for him next year, which could set him up for a job once he graduates. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He feels like a somewhat functional adult, especially since he lives with his boyfriend who is as hardworking as ever, managing his art studio and spending off time at home to work on side projects he has in mind. It's all too perfect for them both.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The most stressful part of Jisung's first semester now reaches a close. Exams before the holidays are </span>
  <span class="s2">done </span>
  <span class="s1">and he can finally enjoy the Christmas season and have a lot more quality time with Minho. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Friday night after Jisung's last exam, he proposes ordering takeout to celebrate. Minho, who is five hours deep into a new painting, could not be happier to agree. He lets the younger force him away from his work for a break and to just enjoy the night. Jisung insists it is the commencement of the holiday season and they have to do nothing more than eat good food, watch Christmas movies, and then maybe ( or definitely ) cuddle. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They're already on their third film when it starts to snow outside. The crystalline fragments fall past their small rectangular window and catch their eyes, making them sit up eagerly, both of them look like little kids excited to see what Santa has brought them on Christmas Day. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They turn the tv off, reveling in the quiet and snuggling even closer together on the couch to watch the snow fall outside. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This is what Jisung wishes he knew would be in store two years ago, when he was always so worried about trying to move his life along to keep up with everyone else. He wishes he knew that moments like these were waiting for him, the special ones that make him wish to freeze time. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It'll be a miracle if it snows on Christmas," Jisung proposes excitedly. "That hasn't happened in so long."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"That would be nice," Minho agrees.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's so pretty," Jisung says, dazed by the beauty of white piling on the windowsill, getting illuminated by the soft rainbow colored LED lights strung loosely around the frame. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho hums, but he isn't looking at the snow. Instead, he's admiring Jisung, and the way his face glows under the Christmas lights hung around their small apartment and their petite but precious tree, and he smiles when memorizing the twinkle in Jisung's eyes that reflects the gleam of the their white star topper, an effortlessly beautiful sight. Minho could replicate this scene, already mapping out the faintest details of Jisung's face and the pattern of snow falling, and he'd certainly be whipping out a blank canvas right now if he wasn't trapped beneath Jisung and his persistent need for cuddles. But he knows he can do it another time, he certainly won't forget this image soon.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung breaks his train of thought by pushing his head up under Minho's chin, like a cat nodding into its owners palm.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Goodnight," He slurs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho slips his arms around Jisung's waist, holding him tighter as he too closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They fall asleep, snow falling outside and the anticipation of Christmas surrounding them on the perfect December night.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Usually, the morning starts with Minho leaving early to go to his studio or getting up to start another new project at home whenever ideas spark at the crack of dawn. Jisung will either wake up around seven on the days of his morning lectures or sleep in past noon when he has later classes or, on the rare occasion, no class at all. Point is, he and Minho haven't gotten to savor each other like this in a long time, their schedules never aligned for it.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There's a calmness encompassing the days leading up to the holiday. Minho has taken some time off work to spend with Jisung, and the younger is finally allowing himself to just exist without so much pressure. He's enjoying his time off, something he's longed for ever since the first day classes started again.  </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The mornings are now slow and relaxing. It's out of routine for both Minho and Jisung to still be in bed, cuddling lazily, and drifting in and out of sleep while the midday sun shines into the room and casts gold hues over the walls through the blinds, but it's so refreshing. Their room smells like the vanilla scented candle they lit last night, and the crisp winter air carries in a cool breeze from the sliver of an opening in the window. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho shivers slightly as the cold dances up his spine, drawing Jisung and their comforter closer.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Cold?" Jisung splays his warm hand across Minho's back and rubs circles over his shoulder blades. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"A little," Minho mumbles into his pillow. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'll keep you warm," Jisung smiles tiredly and pulls him into his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They spend another hour asleep until their stomachs protest and they find it hard to keep denying their hunger, </span>
  <span class="s2">and </span>
  <span class="s1">the need for some caffeine.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"What are your plans for today?" Minho asks Jisung as he slides his cup of coffee across the counter. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There's five more days until Christmas, and so far the days they've spent together have been nice, just uneventful. Not that those days aren't enough for either of them, they don't need to do anything extravagant to be fulfilled, but Minho knows how much Jisung loves Christmas, and there must be something he's itching to do.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Whatever you wanna do," Jisung shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee, melting into the warm and bitter comfort. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho laughs and walks back to the stove, getting started on cooking the eggs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"If you leave me in charge of plans you know I'll just end up painting all day," Minho smirks, though Jisung still looks unbothered, ready to remark something cheesy like he wouldn't mind sitting in silence while the older works, which they already do, almost all the time just because they like to be in each other's company. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">However, Minho will be damned if he spends his entire break from work just working from home despite taking off time from his actual job. It totally defeats the purpose. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Come on, Sungie, there's gotta be something fun you want to do," Minho whines. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The brunette traces the rim of his coffee mug with his index finger, humming thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I wouldn't mind going to the book store," He suggests. "They're decorated really nice for Christmas, and the cafe inside makes great cheesecake. They also serve hot chocolate, the one you like!" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung's enthusiasm is infectious it seems, because Minho can't help but break out into an endeared smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"That sounds perfect," He replies sweetly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho sets the table, not without stealing a few kisses from his boyfriend who still looks adorably tired, his face puffy from sleep and lips practically sealed into a permanent pout. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They eat quick so they can shower and get ready for the day, excited to have some domestic couple time together.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As Jisung explained, the book store is pretty perfect. It's strung up with garland and tinsel across every bookshelf, multiple mistletoes are scattered throughout the first floor, glittery snowflakes hand from the ceiling, and a large Christmas tree decorated with gold, silver, red and green ornaments stands right at the center of it all. The entire place smells like pine, coffee, and homemade cookies. It's a scene out of a movie, and Minho relishes in it as Jisung drags him to the escalator, bouncing with every step.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They go through the floors, stopping at Jisung's favorite sections— science fiction, philosophy, poetry, and of course they graze through the comics as well. He points out some of the books he's still hoping to buy, making Minho hide a smile. He's already bought a few of them as Christmas presents for the younger, so he feels assured it'll make him happy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Afterwards they get in line at the cafe. Jisung points out every desert in the case that he's tried before, rating them on a scale of 1-10 with a lot of passion, and naturally Minho listens with a fond smile, admiring some decorated sugar cookies and various red and green frosted double tier cakes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Obviously the cheesecake is my favorite, but their fudge is to die for and- oh! The cookies are great, especially the double chocolate ones, and their hot cocoa comes with homemade whip cream, doesn't that sound amazing?" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho smiles and squeezes Jisung's hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It all sounds so good, we might have to come here together more often."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"That'd be nice! I always read alone at one of the tables in the back," Jisung points over Minho's shoulder. "It's peaceful but I'd like you to join me sometimes. They have a whole section of biographies on famous artists, I'm sure you'd find some of it interesting."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh how thoughtful of him to know that, Minho muses. How did he get so lucky? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When it's their turn to order they step up to the front. Jisung gets his usual iced Americano and a slice of cheesecake, and Minho settles for some hot chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie. As mentioned, they settle at Jisung favorite table, though this time the writer isn't set on reading anything, he just wants to enjoy the moment with his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho falls in love with his hot chocolate and confirms that he will be paying more visits here. Jisung's smile grows wider, and his cheeks stuffed out with cheesecake make him look even cuter. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's a simple way to try and get in the holiday spirit, but it's plenty effective for the simple duo that Minho and Jisung are. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When they finally get to leaving, they're accompanied by a slight drizzle. The rain always finds them at the perfect times, like when Minho needed a helping hand, when Jisung found himself compulsively confessing his love, and now on their night of searching for some holiday fun. It's apparently their thing.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"This seems familiar," Minho scoffs. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"The rain must love us, hyung," Jisung coos. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The light drizzle doesn't remain light for long though, and it quickly turns into a heavy rain shower instead. Jisung grabs Minho's hand with a squeal and runs for an awning outside one of the pharmacies on the street, sheltering them both from getting any more soaked. Somehow Minho trips and stumbles into Jisung's chest, but catches himself in time on the brunettes forearms and lifts his head sheepishly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You okay?" Jisung asks with a teasing smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I meant to do that," Minho deadpans. Jisung laughs and shakes his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"No, I did! I mean it, it was an intentional fall," Minho insists, straightening himself out, keeping his hands on Jisung's arms. "I just missed." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung looks ready to question his boyfriend but he's silenced by a pair of lips on his own. He startles and their noses bump, to which they can feel the curve of each other's smiles on their mouths as they stifle their laughter on one another's lips, but neither of them pull away. Jisung still tastes like cheesecake, and Minho like the hot chocolate he's finished minutes ago. They're faces are a little wet from where the rain managed to get them, but Jisung cups Minho's cheeks in his hands to deepen the kiss, and his sweater paws dry most the rain off of his cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The moment is so spontaneous and shameless, Jisung almost has whiplash. Though it's been some time, it never fails to amaze him how great Minho is. The lonely art loving boy everyone talked about in Jisung's freshman year is actually so much more than that. He's not cold, he's personable, genuine, passionate, and he doesn't waste time on trivial time passings and things he doesn't think will last. It means a lot to know that, and to know that of all things he could've been doing with his life, he's already found worth in dedicating two years of himself to Jisung. He's not sure the excitement of their relationship will ever die down, but he's more than grateful for that.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho's lips are plush and pillowy soft, and no matter how many times Jisung's kissed him he'll never stop fawning over how nice it is. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho pulls away, and now Jisung's lips feel cold and he's eager for more, but he realizes the rain has stopped. They shouldn't exactly wait around for it to start again. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They run the rest of the way home, hand in hand, trying to avoid any more "intentional falls" along the way. Perhaps they start making out again before they walk entirely through the front door of their apartment, but it's fine. It's them. It's perfect. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">December twenty first isn't too exciting. The rain starts again in the early am and refuses to let up throughout the day. It's not a problem though, as long as the couple are together they'll be content.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They sleep in, make breakfast, watch some more Christmas movies. Around lunch time they decide to do have some "personal time", which literally means doing separate work in the same room while Christmas music plays softly in the background. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho sits on one end of the room with an easel in front of him, the back of his canvas facing Jisung, who is curled up on the couch with a notebook in his lap and reading glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. The rain patters against the window but the cheerful Christmas songs block it out, and the couple gets lost in their own worlds as the hours tick. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's not the most eventful day, but still cherished.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">And on December twenty second, Chan invites Jisung and Minho to his Christmas party on the twenty third. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In good old Jisung fashion, the younger uses this as an excuse to bake.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"We can't show up empty handed!" Jisung gasps when Minho questions his enthusiasm over baking a double batch of three different types of cookie.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"We could buy something?" Minho proposes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung waves him off.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"There's no fun in that."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They spend the day coated in flour, frosting, and chocolate from melted chips—neither of them know how that happened—but it's worth it once they have enough cookies to eat for tonight and bring to the party the next day. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The apartment smells like a bakery, and thanks to the oven it's also warm and toasty inside, warding off the bitter chill of rain. Jisung takes it upon himself to do the dishes, a sight that Minho can't resist. Creeping up behind him, he slips his arms around his tint waist and sways side to side.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"This was fun," Minho hums and rests his chin on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"The cookies taste so good too. I'm sure the boys will love them," Jisung sounds pleased. "Any reason you're attached to me, love?" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho flushes from his ears to his neck and pulls away. Jisung shuts the water off and dries his hands on a towel, then turns around and takes the olders hands in his.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I don't mind," Jisung tips his head to the side. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho smiles and averts his gaze to the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You just look so cute and soft. How could I not want to hug you?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're cute," Jisung counters. He stretches his arms out and engulfs Minho in hug.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Did you finish what you were writing yesterday?" Minho wonders as he hugs back.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Almost! I plan on finishing tonight."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho nods and breaks the hug. "Still not gonna tell me what it is? Or why it's so secretive?" He wiggles his eyebrows even as Jisung rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Nope!" Jisung exclaims, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "Besides, you wouldn't tell me what you were painting so we're even."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho crosses his arms, but the playful gleam in his eyes makes Jisung chuckle. He's so very in love. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Speaking of," Minho claps his hands. "I have to get back to working on that painting."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"And I have writing to do," Jisung clicks his tongue and reaches for Minho's hand, sheepish. "Cuddles later?" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho's chest overflows with warmth. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Nothing sounds better."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They exchange a few kisses, getting a little caught up before finally insisting they have work to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The rest of the night is a blur, but once Minho feels confident in his finished painting he sets it up to dry in his little art corner. Meanwhile, Jisung edits his writing for the sixth time and decides it's just about perfect, storing it away in a red and silver box and slipping it in his drawer before deciding to check on Minho. He sees his boyfriend in the living room, hair tattered and his clothes and forearms smeared in some paint.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Done?" Jisung grins toothily and flops on the couch with open arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'm covered in paint, baby," Minho tuts. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Don't care, cuddles now or I'll be sad," Jisung complains, batting his lashes a few times and winning their ( nonexistent ) argument. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Okay okay," Minho concedes, cheeks tinted pink. "So demanding."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're just easy to win over now," Jisung sticks his tongue out. "You were incredibly stubborn when we met."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I was just sensitive about my art," Minho defends. "And you were cute, I gay panicked."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung sputters at that, hugging the older tighter. "Well I was gay panicking over you first, so I win!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Oh god, I love you,” Minho nuzzles his face into Jisung's chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The words hang in the air, and everything is still. It's not like they've never said they love each other before, in fact Jisung said it first, but his tendency to get overwhelmed by emotions, especially ones like these, sometimes catch him off guard.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Sung?" Minho lifts his head inquisitively. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung's eyes are a little misty, but his heart shaped smile is so bright. He pecks Minho's lips, a fleeting moment, and sighs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I love you too. I really love you, hyung, so so much," He says breathlessly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho responds with another kiss. Jisung knows what he's saying, words aren't needed, but when they pull away again Minho reminds him anyways. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I love you always, baby."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's safe to say Jisung refuses to let go of Minho for the rest of the night, it's like they have all the time in the world, but still neither of them care to waste a second apart. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">December twenty third is Chan's Christmas party. It's nothing major, a small get together at his apartment with some friends. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung and Minho arrive to the usual chaos of their friend group. Changbin and Jeongin are having a battle at Christmas karaoke while Seungmin records them on his phone, Hyunjin and Felix, the happy couple, are cuddling together on the couch—thankfully they got their shit together over the summer and confirmed the boyfriend status—and Chan is in the kitchen mixing up some rum and eggnog in a large green bowl decorated with dainty little snowflakes on the outside.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Help yourselves," He sets some cups out on the table. "The boys picked movies to watch, and takeout should be here soon." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Thanks hyung," Minho nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"No problem. We miss you at work Sung, but how's yours break going?" Chan directs to the younger. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung takes his first sip of eggnog, immediately met with euphoria of the sweetness and barely noticing a trace of alcohol.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's great," He answers when he finally processes the question. "Don't miss me too much, I'll be back and desperate for money as soon as the new year hits." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Chan laughs and dismisses him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'll get you on shifts right away. But forget that now, it's almost Christmas! Let's have fun." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Though Jisung and Minho are always attached at the hip, they spare the time to enjoy their other friend's company. Jisung and Felix get to catching up, it feels like they haven't seen each other since Halloween with how busy they've been.Of course Minho insists on pestering his dongsaengs, teasing Seungmin and Jeongin and then Hyunjin, occasionally Changbin, but soon the alcohol in his system hits and he wants nothing more than to cuddle with the younger boys instead. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He outright refuses to let Changbin go despite his protests.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Cuddle your boyfriend!" Changbin whines.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Mm, I will later, but you're cozy too." Minho holds Changbin in place until the boy gives up, accepting the affection.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They all eat way too much food and binge a few movies, have a gift exchange, and soak in the quality time and good spirits of the season. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As the night comes to a close Minho finds himself wanting another glass of eggnog, even though he's tipsy enough. And if it leads to him and Jisung making out in Chan's kitchen for a few minutes before Jeongin catches them, cringing in disgust and turning back around, then nobody else has to know.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Thanks for tonight, it was a lot of fun," Jisung waves to Chan and the others as he and Minho leave.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Have a good Christmas!" Their friends yell as they too go their separate ways. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho leans heavily on Jisung on the walk home, spontaneously pressing kisses to the youngers neck, causing him to shiver.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're an affectionate drunk, love. I almost forgot," Jisung teases to mask his bashfulness.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Yeah," Minho drawls. "I'm so excited for tomorrow, Sungie. I love you, and Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day! I'm just so so happy."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung's heart skips a beat as he supports Minho under his arm, walking them the rest of the way home. Back at their apartment he takes care of Minho, helping him get changed out of his jeans and sweater into a fresh t-shirt, then tucks him into bed under their cozy blankets. He brushes a hand through his hair and kisses his forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I'm happy too," Jisung whispers. He climbs in bed beside him and holds Minho in his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Goodnight, love." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung drifts into his own dreams as well.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Christmas Eve comes with a faint snow and mix of rain on a cozy grey morning. A light hearted atmosphere takes on the day. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung wakes first and prepares pancakes for breakfast. Minho wakes up late, a total role reversal, and is greeted by the sight of pancakes, Christmas cookies, and hot chocolate set across the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Happy Christmas Eve," Jisung greets. He gives Minho a kiss and pulls him into a warm embrace.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Happy Christmas Eve, baby," Minho hugs back loosely.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I worked hard on this breakfast so let's enjoy! Hot chocolate should be the perfect cure for your hangover," Jisung pulls his boyfriend to sit at one of the chairs. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I don't think it works that way," Minho says feebly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung taps a finger to his lips. "Hmm, I think it might."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">To say Jisung's pancakes are to die for would be an understatement. Maybe it's because Minho's a little hungover and very in the mood for Christmas, but the sweetness overload of homemade food, holiday baking and creamy hot cocoa is very fitting to start off Christmas Eve. He and Jisung are practically in a food coma by the time they're finished, but Minho refuses to fall asleep again or do anything else without cleaning up in return for Jisung going to the trouble of cooking for them. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This time Jisung stands behind Minho while he does the dishes. He clings to his waist and leaves little smooches on the back of his neck and shoulders.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I know it's not Christmas yet, but there's something I want to give you later."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho's interest peaks. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Really? I did too, actually."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Are you trying to outdo my surprise?" Jisung gasps, gently pinching and tickling Minho's stomach to make him squirm. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Hey! If anything you're trying to outdo me from being the best boyfriend ever," Minho complains, the pout in his voice evident, but the teasing lilt isn't missed.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"May the better present win," Jisung challenges, not without littering another round of kisses across his boyfriends neck. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Their gift exchange happens in the evening, sat in front of their Christmas tree while music plays from the tv. Jisung is sitting with a small box in his lap as Minho trudges in carrying a large rectangular frame, Jisung easily identifies it as the canvas he's been working on.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You want to go first?" Minho offers. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Despite his cocky display earlier, Jisung's feeling a little sheepish about his gift, so he tells Minho to start.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Alright," the older sighs, moving closer. "I- I hope you like it." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho turns the canvas around and Jisung stills. The painting leaves him breathless. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's himself, laying on top of Minho, their limbs tangled on the couch, but such simplicity is accompanied by so much detail. In both their eyes there's the image of their Christmas tree and holiday lights reflecting off their irises and gleaming at the center of their pupils, and the shadows cast across their faces are so realistic. Their hands are intertwined between them, and in the window behind the couch is delicately falling snow over the city. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's just like their first night of break. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You- this is- hyung, I love it," Jisung chokes out, one hand over his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Yeah?" Minho tucks his hair behind his ear. "I got a little inspired the other night. I couldn't help myself."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung gets up, carefully leaning the canvas against the wall to go and hug Minho.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's perfect, you're perfect. I'm happy I can inspire you as much as you inspire me."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Does me inspiring you have anything to do with that?" Minho points to the box discarded on the floor. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung quirks his brow. "Maybe..."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The little box gets swept back into Jisung's slightly shaky hands, and he stands in front of Minho, keeping his gaze down as he rubs the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I started working on this the week of my finals as a way to clear my mind, but I realized it was helping because everything I was writing had to do with you, and I kinda thought I'd just keep writing and writing and it's kind of like a- well- a show of how much I love you," Jisung puts the box into Minho's awaiting hands, a vulnerable look in his eyes. "I hope you like it." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho stares at Jisung in surprise, only for the younger to nod him on encouragingly. He unties the ribbon and lifts the lid off, revealing a vintage looking leather journal. He takes it out, admiring the print on the cover, glancing at Jisung one last time before opening it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho doesn't cry easily, but he can't help the growing wateriness in his eyes as he reads over the poems on the first page. They're Jisung's words, so eloquent and attentive. His soft voice filters through Minho's head with every line, each one filled with warmth, fondness, and love, all for him. Every poem is about Minho, how he looks in the morning, or when he's focused on painting, his natural beauty when he takes his makeup off and reveals his soft self to the younger after a long day. All of the beautiful words crafted across the pages are so genuine and endearing, a verbal painting of the scenes of his and Jisung's life together. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho's gone speechless.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Is it- do you like it?" Jisung bites his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho closes the book and tackles him in an embrace, showing just how much he loves his present through a physical thank you.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"How did you put so much time into writing about me?” Minho sounds disbelieving. "What did I do to deserve that, baby?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Being you, being my boyfriend," Jisung answers instantly. "You're my muse."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho glances over at his painting, smiling with a rosy blush on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're mine too."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung captures Minho's attention again by grabbing his face, his warm palms cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a chaste kiss. He moves back and stares into the olders eyes, adoration traveling between them.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You're my words Minho, and I'm your color," Jisung says sweetly. "You give me a million ideas to write about, and many reasons to love what I do, and I guess sometimes I come in handy with your paintings too, huh?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You know you do," Minho gently pushes his shoulder back with a giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung comes forward and presses their foreheads together. Minho closes his eyes and breathes in, trying to steady his racing heart. Two years and he'll never be unfazed by the spark he feels with Jisung. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Happy Christmas Eve, Sungie." </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho laces their hands down at their sides. Jisung brushes his thumb over his knuckles and smiles.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Happy Christmas Eve."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It's Christmas morning. Jisung and Minho wake up simultaneously, facing one another with half lidded eyes and sluggish attempts at smiles to greet one another.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's Christmas," Jisung whispers, low and breathy in his morning voice. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho tries to say 'Merry Christmas' through a yawn, but instead he sighs, squinting his eyes and shoving his face back into his pillow. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung huffs airily.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You can't sleep the day away," He whines.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He clings to his boyfriend, draping himself over his chest. His eyes flutter and there's a dopey smile on his face, a lot of love coursing through his veins. Minho wiggles around in his arms to face him, smiling softly at the top of Jisung's head resting right over his heart. Minho runs his fingers through his hair, detangling a few knots until it's all straight and soft. His hand moves to his back when he's done, and the circular motions almost lull Jisung back to sleep before he jolts up, lifting himself on his forearms that are bracketed on either side of Minho's torso. His overgrown bangs fall loosely over his eyes as he smiles down.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's snowing."</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho turns to the window, and sure enough the city is being blasted by a sea of white. It's falling slow, but it glistens like magic. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"It's a Christmas miracle, baby," Minho reaches out to cup one of his boyfriend cheeks. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I thought I was your Christmas miracle," Jisung pouts. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho laughs and pulls himself up on Jisung's arms, holding his face between his hands, and kisses the tip of his nose. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Merry Christmas," Minho leans back, grinning at Jisung's narrowed gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You missed!"</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Minho furrows innocently. "What?" </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung leans down, his hands grip the fabric of Minho's oversized t-shirt and he kisses him greedily. The younger breaks it off, giggling as Minho subconsciously whines at the loss of contact.  </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Jisung's eyes soften and he concedes by pressing another kiss to Minho's jaw, then his cheek, and finally his forehead. He brushes his blonde hair back, hovering over him, their eyes locked.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Merry Christmas, love," Jisung whispers. He falls back at Minho's side and curls up under his arm, ready to cuddle and watch the snow fall before doing anything else. Sure the weather is beautiful, and later they'll eat good food and open more presents, but even without all of that it would still be perfect because they already have each other. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It is indeed, a Merry Christmas.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Holidays to everyone, stay healthy and safe, take care of yourselves, and as always, thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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